That Breeze

What a lovely book is De Waal, 'Brieven aan Camondo' (2021).  Silenced. With bated breath. Sober. Like a Japanese Zen garden. 

Three quotes (translated from Dutch pages 103, 124 and 133):

 

"And I know you too. You wanted to complete things, needed to put things back together, you must have known what separation feels like, dispersion feels.
You started building this house and then your son died. The house changed. He had to come back to it, it became something to give to this mutilated homeland."  

"I noticed that your father's copy of 'Histoire de la poésie des Hébreux' is among the classics. That pleased me. And I was glad to see that you have Charles' book on Dürer, which he wrote many decades ago in his study, in the Rue de Monceau. I'm sure many collectors ordered books for their library by the metre, along with the curtains, but you loved books. "

"That's all delicious stuff and I know that in heaven caviar is eaten to the sound of trumpets, but I want to know more about the date jam sent from Cairo and about buying 'boutargue' from Martigues. That's harder calf salted, seasoned, pressed and dried. That's the taste of Constantinople, childhood, that breeze."

P.S. Father Moïse de Camondo founded  a museum for his son Nissim who died as pilot in World War I: Musée Nissim de Camondo. Moïse died in 1935. His daughter, her (ex)husband and their two children were murdered by the germans in World War II because they were jews.

P.P.S. The three pictures are from rooms of the museum: petit bureau, salon bleu and salle à manger.

P.P.P.S. I read a Dutch translation. The original title of this book: 'Letters to Camondo'.